The More You Know
by Kurohane Ookami
Summary: This Halloween is going to be one for the books. When two different Starks build supercomputers, the last thing anyone expects is for them to actually work. At the same time. With two very different people on either side. Oops. M for some strong language.


**Hello, lovely readers! **

**Each year, as some of you who know my fics remember, I usually make an effort to post something on Halloween, whether it be a crack-fic, one-shot or anything else along those lines. It's not anything necessarily canon, it's just for fun and for the season. So, I hope you'll all enjoy this year's installment, and I wish you a safe and Happy Halloween!**

-;-

_Sometime during the past…_

"Stark, what the hell are you doing?"

"No time to talk, come on, Peg!" The eager man replied, pulling the brunette woman upright and shoving a mug of steaming tea into her hands. "I've just finished a magnificent creation!"

A half asleep Peggy Carter narrowed her eyes at Howard, her lips pursed as she contemplated the risks of strangling the man and hiding his body before anyone else noticed. She also vaguely wondered what her mother would say at a man seeing her in her nightclothes, but given that she _was_ in the army and that this was strangely more common than one would think, she decided to let it slide this time. But only because she was _dying_ to hear what excuse the man would come up with this time.

"What time is it."

"Four in the morning?"

"You're lucky I have tea." She replied, taking a sip and nodding. It would have to do for now- once Stark got an idea in his mind, there was little chance of escaping the carnage that was sure to follow.

"I know."

"You're lucky you're in between me and my gun."

"Also noted."

"Consider the fact that if you continue wasting my time, you will die by my hand."

"Yes ma'am."

-;-

_Sometime in the present…_

Clint Barton, better known as Hawkeye, was hungry.

And taking into consideration that it was approximately four in the morning, he decided that the nectar of the gods, aka hot chocolate, was to be arranged for his consumption at his earliest convenience.

Carefully prying himself out of the large and extremely comfortable blanket-nest that was his bed, the blond man padded down the hall of his rooms- consisting of an entire floor that wasn't actually on the blueprints of Stark Tower- and accessed the elevator systems.

"Good morning, Mister Barton." Jarvis greeted.

"Morning Jarvis." Clint replied, running a hand through his hair. "Is Natasha back yet?"

"Miss Romanoff is scheduled to return tomorrow morning at six o'clock, sir."

"Damn." He sighed. "Oh well. To the kitchen please, Jarvis."

"Not going to take the ventilation system this morning, sir?" the AI inquired in amusement.

"Nah. Too early. I might end up somewhere I shouldn't be."

"That seems to be the norm for you, sir."

"A sad side-effect of being a master assassin for all these years, I'm afraid." He sighed dramatically before grinning brightly. "Maybe one day it will change, but until then, you're all just going to have to deal with me."

Jarvis sighed.

"Yes, sir."

-;-

"See? Peg, Peg, look! Isn't it just so shiny and pretty? I worked all night on it!" Howard very nearly squealed, shoving Peggy down into a seat in front of a giant hunk of… something. She wasn't entirely sure what, considering that this new invention seemed to be formed out of a lot of spare parts. "And now I need you to sit here and make sure that it works!"

"And how am I supposed to know if it works?" she deadpanned, taking another sip of her tea.

"I don't know, but that's why you're here!" Howard replied brightly, backing away towards the door. "I'll be back with food later- have fun!"

And with that, he was gone.

Peggy blinked, narrowing her eyes in the direction that the head of the Stark family had fled. He was going to regret this later. She was going to make sure of that. But in the meantime… he did know her rather unhealthy obsession with the unknown and new technology that he kept coming up with.

Damn that little rat.

Settling back into her chair, Peggy silently congratulated herself on remembering to grab a sweater to go over her thin shirt and pants. She had a feeling she would be sitting here for a while.

-;-

"As is Hawkeye's law, so the hot chocolate must be ingested- through the magic of Disney's mug." Clint whispered reverently as he scooped the chocolate powder into his mug, closely followed by the tiniest amount of milk. The water was almost finished boiling- close enough, in his opinion- and once that was added the holy trinity was complete.

"Ahh, my precious creation." Clint cooed, stirring the ingredients in the mug together. "What would I do without you?"

Ignoring everything else, the master assassin moved away from the kitchen area of the floor space and into the lounge, glancing up at the ceiling as he did so.

"Well, that looks promising. Let's see what kind of shit I can screw up before anyone gets out of bed." He said smugly to himself, placing his mug of hot chocolate down on the high seated table before leaping into the air, latching both hands onto the ridge of the vent and pushing up against one of the panels in the ceiling with his feet. "After all, it's like Stark wants me to find all of the goodies he's hidden around this place."

Hearing the panel clang as it slipped up into the vent, a victorious grin crossed Clint's face, and he swung up into the surprisingly spacious vent.

A moment later, he swung back down by his feet to collect his beverage.

"Almost forgot you." He cooed, stroking the mug as he retreated back into the vent.

-;-

"Stark wanted me awake. Now what in some hell does he want me to do with this infernal device?" Peggy muttered to herself, cradling her half full mug of tea. "Just sit here, Peg, and take a look at this thing I built that has no real purpose other than to be a piece of junk. Well, what the hell does he expect from me?"

"Fuck if I know. I woke up, broke into Stark's lab and found this doohickey." A voice replied.

"Mother of shit!" Peggy shrieked, jolting and almost dumping the remnants of her tea onto her lap.

"Uhhh…no. Sorry, I don't think I fit that description." The man that had suddenly appeared on the- screen? The flat surface was a screen? He was blond, ruggedly handsome, with his hair spiking out in several directions and clothing that was form fitting and in colors that didn't look as though they belonged in her time.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" the brunette woman hissed, grabbing for the gun that wasn't at her side and mentally cursing. "What did Stark do to this infernal machine?"

"You're asking me? I don't know. All I know is that I'm in places I probably shouldn't be, but that's not exactly unusual so…" the man shrugged.

"How did you get to be on this screen." Peggy asked warily. For all she knew, this was some kind of trap set up by some secret intelligence agency that she wasn't aware of. "Are you a German?"

"Uhhhh….nope. Not as far as I'm aware."

"This could be a trick." She replied tartly.

"Definitely could be." The man agreed. "But in all honesty, I'm harmless. For the most part, anyway."

"It is 06:00 hours on a Saturday, and Stark drags me out of it all to sit in front of this thing. And now I'm talking to a strange man dressed in weird clothing and I think someone might have drugged me."

"Tell me about it." Clint rolled his eyes, recalling every single time that Fury had called him and Natasha in on a weekend at some ungodly time in the morning. Although that probably wasn't the point that this woman was trying to make, but…at least he tried.

"However, I _was_ handed tea. All is well in my world- for now." She replied thoughtfully, completely ignoring the man.

"At least you get things handed to you. I have to scavenge for my own drink in the morning."

"Stark knows I will end him if I am awoken without something akin to caffeine." The woman shrugged, deciding that it was probably better just to go along with the scenario she'd been given. After all, she was pretty sure the enemy was _never_ going to be wearing a long sleeved purple shirt of any kind. "I believe he enjoys having internal organs remain internal."

"I understand. My partner constantly threatens to kill me if I don't bring her coffee in bed. She's an assassin."

"Any woman can be an assassin at 6 in the morning." Peggy replied reasonably. Take her, for example. She would have enjoyed kicking Stark's ass, had it not been for the tolerance she had built up to survive her experiences with him.

"Excellent point." The man replied.

"I make plenty of those." She sniffed. "I tend to be the only one with a lick of reason in my mind."

"You surrounded by idiots too?" the man asked sympathetically.

"Why yes, I am."

Was it really that obvious?

"My condolences. Although according to my partner _I'm_ one of the idiots." Clint rolled his eyes, acting as though it wasn't at all his fault.

"One gets used to it." Peggy said vaguely.

"True." He acknowledged. "So, while I'm thinking about it, either we're both talking about the same Stark, or we're in different time periods. Am I right? Or do I even _want_ to know how that one happened?"

"I want to assume different time periods. But that sounds mad." Peggy said slowly, brows furrowing.

"This is Stark we're talking about." Clint noted, finishing the dregs of his hot chocolate. "Even if it might be two different ones. It is entirely possible that time periods are the least of our problems."

"That is a valid notion." The brunette on the other side of the screen agreed.

"Eh, I have them occasionally. Not often enough to prove my intelligence, but often enough that I haven't died. I suppose I should take that as a good thing, really." He hummed, placing his mug down and regretting not making more. Then again, he hadn't expected to find a magical supercomputer in Stark's laboratory, but hey, no one was perfect.

"I suppose everyone is granted notions. Even if some are graced with fewer than others."

Ooh, that one was going to leave a mark on his pride.

"Hold on, though. It sounds like we're talking about two entirely different people. If we really are talking about two different Starks, that means you probably know Cap, right?"

"You mean Captain Steve Rogers?" the brunette quirked a brow before her features softened and she glanced away. "I guess you could say I know him."

"Someone has a little crush, I take it?" Clint teased. He was beginning to get an idea of who this woman might be, and if he was right, he was going to have so much blackmail in his grasp in the near future.

"Shut your smug mouth." She flushed.

It seemed that Clint had managed to hit a nerve with this one. Unfortunately for him, he didn't exactly have any shame in his body. A side effect of being a master assassin for so long, perhaps.

"Unfortunately, I can't. Seems to be a problem every time I try." He replied cheekily instead, his mouth moving faster thanhis brain could quite comprehend.

"Bite the big one my violently purple agent." She snarled, flipping him the bird, eyes flashing.

"How do you know I'm an agent?"

Holy shit, this woman was good if she could tell this kind of shit through a computer screen.

"Just an assumption. If this really is a descendent of the Stark I know, not just anyone would be able to break into the Stark lab." The woman replied with a prim shrug.

"A correct assumption, partly. I am an agent of some kind." Clint admitted.

"Approximate knowledge is better than none at all."

"True. But I can't risk you compromising me in your future if I tell you too much. I've seen one too many movies that ended badly."

"Whatever you say."

"So, tell me. Got any blackmail material I can use on Rogers? Or Stark? Assuming that you are Peggy Carter, of course." Clint inquired, leaning forward with a dark grin.

"I am indeed Agent Carter. One thing for Stark- the inherited fear of caterpillars." Peggy returned with an equally dark smile.

Ah, she knew she was going to get revenge on Stark eventually. That it was a descendent only made it so much sweeter.

"You don't say." Clint leaned forward, a gleam in his eye.

"Absolutely _petrified_ of them." Peggy smirked.

"Wouldn't it be an absolute _shame_ if a large quantity of them found his room?"

"I like the way you think_. Partly Correct_ Agent."

Clint sighed, glancing around as though Natasha might appear out of thin air- which she had done in the past, just to clarify. "My partner will probably kill me, but the name's Barton. I think we could be good friends, Agent Carter."

"Well Agent Barton, I do suppose we could form an excellent partnership." The woman agreed.

"I shall defer to your judgement, Ms Carter."

"That is Agent Carter to you, sir." Peggy snapped, drawing herself up to her full height.

"Alright alright, no need to pull rank now." Clint attempted to soothe, holding up his hands in an I-come-in-peace gesture.

"It's the 40's, darling. How many female agents can you think of off the top of your mind?"

"Excellent point." The blond nodded. "Nowadays there's a lot more. Including my partner, of course."

"Unfortunately I'm the only female of this squadron." Peggy sighed. "And that doesn't seem like it's going to change any time soon."

"Ouch. My partner is the only one in our little group of superheroes, unfortunately, but we make do."

"Frankly I'm not sure the squadron could handle more than one agent of my standing and voice." The brunette stated dryly. "After all, just look at how Stevie reacts every time he sees a woman."

"They could just get over it. My partner claimed a couch as our own and established rank by throwing us men off of it when we dared sit upon it. Needless to say… we now grudgingly respect her. More so the other guys more than me, considering that I've been Nat's partner for years, but what are we gonna do."

"Props to you Agent Barton." Peggy inclined her head.

"If we can't get a bunch of men to at least grudgingly respect women, they should be cowering in fear for what my partner will do to them."

"Valid point there. I think I would like to meet your partner."

"As a sane human being, I don't think that that would ever be a good idea." Clint shook his head. "It's bad enough that she practically dominates the male portion of the human race. We don't need two of you running around."

If he didn't know any better, Clint would have said that Peggy was pouting at that statement.

"Barton? What the hell are you doing in my lab- who the hell is that?"

Shit. He hadn't counted on Stark waking up.

Clint frantically looked for a button, any button, that would help him turn off the computer, but before he could do it, the screen went black for him- no doubt with assistance from the other side of the screen.

"No one."

"Was that some kind of hooker? Seriously? You break into my lab so you can use my supercomputer for hookers? We have seriously got to find you something better to do in your free time, Barton." Tony grumbled, flicking on the lights and moving over to stand next to the computer.

"Nah. I'm more into role-play."

"Dude. No."

-;-

Tony never did get his supercomputer to work like it had before after that.

Neither did Howard Stark, either, for reasons that no one quite knew.

Peggy wasn't about to question it. And she certainly wasn't going to tell Stark that she'd seen a spitting image of him cross the screen before she'd yanked the plug on it and taken out several parts that looked important.

Clint- well, he wasn't going to spill anything- especially not to Cap- about who he'd been talking to. After all, there were only so many things that someone could say and do before they royally fucked up, and he knew there was a line.

However, that line did not include the surprising number of caterpillars that appeared in the majority of the tower several weeks later, which induced a high pitched screech of terror from the Stark heir and billionaire.

And really, was it necessary to tell anyone that it was a Halloween day that all of this had occurred?

….Probably not.


End file.
